


Life Changes

by TheClassics4



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1940s, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-25 09:56:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/637671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheClassics4/pseuds/TheClassics4
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isabelle and Russell are reunited after he leaves for war and they spend one last night together</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life Changes

Isabelle wasn’t exactly sure what was happening. They’d come into her home late last night and snatched her right from her bed. She still hadn’t changed from her night gown. At least there hadn’t been a blindfold and the uniforms on the men told her she was in no real danger.

Demanding they tell her what they wanted had been fruitless. Asking nicely had gotten her nowhere. So now she sat. The old truck jostled her something fierce, but she’d inherited her father’s resilience to motion. Her mother had always he would have been a great pilot.

Finally, the motor shut off and the truck sputtered to a halt. She would have thought the military would be able to afford a decent ride for their kidnappings.

The door opened and immediately, Isabelle froze.

“Hello, dear.” He looked as he always had, suit and vest with a red tie. His hair was perfectly combed, making her want to slap him even more.

“Russell, what in God’s name are you doing here?” She stumbled out of the truck angrily, only barely letting him settle her to her feet before backing away from him.

“I’m waiting for you.”

“And what exactly are you waiting for?”

“For you to arrive.”

“Don’t be a bastard. What the hell am I doing here?”

“We need your help,” he offered an arm. She shunned it and started walking in the direction he was indicating. Like the little louse he was, he still managed to snake his arm around her silk clad waist. Isabelle felt too close to him, too exposed in her small night dress. With his hand around her, she could feel his fingers and his arm all too well.

“And what is it I can help you with?”

“No need to worry about it just yet. Let me show you to your room.”

“My room? Russell!” She stopped, gripping his arm to bring him to a halt as well. “I’m not staying here overnight! Tell me what is going on.”

Russell sighed, “Alright. We’ve intercepted a message. But it’s in code.”

“And you expect me to solve it?”

“Well, I know you can,” he said and patted her cheek before turning from her. “This way!”

Isabelle had no choice but to follow him. The flight hanger she had been brought to was big and cold. She seemed to be the only woman in the entire place. This realization made her cross her arms over her chest, trying to cover anything that might be seen.

Even when she’d said she wasn’t going to stay the night, they still showed her to a small bunker in the basement. There was a small bed and a change of clothing had been laid out for her.

Russell showed himself into the room and gestured to the bed, “Do you want to sleep? This can wait until morning.”

“No,” Isabelle said firmly. “Just let me get changed.”

“M’kay,” Russell folded his arms and smirked, thinking he was going to be able to watch.

“I can do it by myself.”

“I don’t know, babe,” he looked her up and down a few times, “I’ve helped you do it plenty of times. I could be of some help.”

“You don’t get to anymore. Go.” Isabelle waved him off. He nodded and for a second, that look on his face was replaced with something resembling sadness…guilt?

She supposed Russell had helped with acquiring the clothing. He was right. He had spent time with her clothing as much as she had. She had lost weight since she’d seen him last; her rations hadn’t been flattering to her figure. The clothing was a size too large, what she’d worn when they had been together, but they were better than wearing a night dress around.

Outside, Russell waited by the door. Another man was with him, definitely a soldier. He was blonde and broad. His officer’s uniform was a bit rumpled, but pressed enough to still look presentable.

“Ah,” he said when he noticed Isabelle. He held out his hand for hers, when she gave it, he pressed it to his lips. “You must be Isabelle. Charmed to meet you.”

“Yes,” she said, “I understand you have a job for me?”

“That we do,” he chirped and he took her arm, wrapping it through his. Isabelle let him, enjoying how Russell eyed the way they walked together.

The man, David when he introduced himself, led Isabelle to a small office. It was blocked off from the rest of the hangar and was quiet inside. David held the chair out for her to sit and when she was at the desk, arranged the papers in front of her.

It was a code she had never seen. The language looked familiar; it was a form of French but manipulated to scramble the meanings. It was all seemingly meaningless. There were some plans which made the obvious messages even clearer. Russell was sitting quietly across from her, watching her. It would have made her uncomfortable had she not been completely engulfed in her job. She wanted this to be done as quickly as she could do it.

Seeing Russell had brought back emotions she thought she had gotten over. He left. She’d cried. She’d gotten over it. And now here he was, the same jackass he’d always been. Isabelle glanced up from her work. Russell was chewing his fingernail and smiled at her. She only rolled her eyes and returned back to the papers.

Yes, he definitely was the same. Some men said the army changed them—matured them. There was no sign of any more maturity in Russell. Somewhere inside her, she’d hoped he would come back. That he’d be a better man than before, no longer afraid to commit to a lifetime with her. But she knew it was foolish, it was why he’d left in the first place. Now seeing him assured her of it.

“Do you want some coffee, babe?” Russell asked, making her start.

She hadn’t realized it, but she’d been yawing and gradually the papers had stopped being shuffled around. Isabelle rubbed her eyes and nodded, “Yeah.”

“Here,” he stood, but came toward her instead of leaving for her drink. When he tried to make her stand, she shrugged him off.

“I need to get this done,” she protested, firmly setting herself back in the seat.

“No, Isabelle, come on,” he tried to lift her again. “You need to sleep.”

“No! I want this done tonight.”

“But if you do it wrong because you’re stubborn, you’d have to be killed.”

“What?”

“Joking,” he said, still smiling.

“That is not funny, bastard,” Isabelle stood on her own and he seemed to take that as her relenting.

“Calm down, hon.” Stepping behind her, he pushed the chair back under the desk. “You always did get crabby when you were tired.” He put a hand on her back and started walking her to the door.

“Stop,” Isabelle snapped. She put a hand out to stop the door from opening, “Just because we’re both here and trying to be civil doesn’t mean you get to talk about the ‘good ol’ days’, okay?”

His fingers drummed against the doorknob and when he nodded, he didn’t say anything else. Isabelle rolled her eyes; it was how he always was. It was as if he knew exactly what she said was right. He never spoke back to her when she was angry with him, only listened and occasionally giving a nod. It was frustrating as hell.

Her night dress still sat where she’d left it and she changed back into it. The bed was hard and cold, with only a small blanket and deflated feather pillow. Isabelle was too tired to care. It would do for the rest of the night.

In the morning, she still awoke early in fear of oversleeping. No one greeted her when she emerged from the bunker. There were more people about as she walked to her small office. It was more bustling and Isabelle wondered why they had brought her in the middle of the night. Her neighbors would be worried sick that she was caught up in some kind of illegal activity. She would have much explaining to do when she returned.

The office was empty, but there was a tea cup set out on the desk, still steaming, along with a small piece of buttered toast. When she sat down, she felt renewed. Last night, everything had jumbled together in her head, but with sleep came clarity. She stopped only for a few minutes to eat when her tea had cooled, then went back to her work.

It was becoming clearer. The Germans had something planned, something soon. Everything was falling into place and when it finally clicked, she leaned back into the seat and laughed. 

The message was dangerous, but they had called her just in time. Troops would have time to move, trenches could be dug.

Still smiling, Isabelle arranged all the papers into a neat stack and went to find David. She had to ask around a few times, receiving a few interested looks from these soldiers who hadn’t seen a woman in months. One man had grabbed her as she walked away from him, but she managed to find David without being bothered much.

He was so relieved when he told her, he swooped her up in his arms, twirling her around like a child.

“Good news?” It was Russell’s voice. David set her down lightly and rushed to throw his arms around Russell. Isabelle liked him. He was charming in a happy, affectionate way.

“The greatest news! You were right about her, I’ll be sure to let them know.” David immediately let Russell go and trotted off with her files.

“Good job,” Russell said, moving toward her. “I knew you could do it.”

“Do I get to leave now?”

“So anxious to get going?” He raised an eyebrow, but continued when Isabelle gave no indication she would stay for him, “David will have called for your ride, but it might take them a while to get here.”

“Then I think I’ll go back and sleep a bit,” she could see the men watching her, most specifically, the man who’d grabbed her was standing close to the door. “Would you walk with me?”

“Of course, babe,” he said, eyeing the gathering crowd of men. With him, no one moved for her and some even went as far as to walk away from them.

But when they got to the bunker, he didn’t leave her. “Russell, I want to be alone right now.”

The small cot they’d given her was hard and the one night she’d spent sleeping on it had been hell. She’d woken with a crick in her neck and her back ached for the entire morning. The prospect of sleeping there again gave her no patience for dealing with him.

“I know, I just wanted to make sure you’re settled.”

“I’m going home,” she said, flicking on the lamp. “I don’t need to be settled.”

“Then maybe I just wanted to see you’re safe from all these brutish men around here,” he smiled as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Why did you want me here?” she asked, turning to him. “Anyone could have done this.”

“You’re the best.”

Isabelle shook her head. Russell didn’t look as if he was going to be leaving anytime soon, so she sat on the bed and gestured for him to come in. He closed the door behind him. She had thought he would sit on the chair across the room, but he sat close to her on the bed.

She could smell he still wore the same cologne and she tried unsuccessfully not to breathe in his scent. It reminded her of the times they had spent together, happier times. They’d been so young, nothing to care about except them; there had been no war to worry over. Everything had seemed so perfect.

His hand came to rest on her thigh and when she turned her head, saw him very close. “I don’t—” He kissed her, stopping her. God, he even tasted the same. The light taste of tobacco under dark coffee. He pulled back, rubbing his thumb over her cheek.

“I missed you.”

“Then you shouldn’t have left,” Isabelle said quietly. She wasn’t angry at him. How many times had she told him to do the right thing—to do the brave thing? Now, he finally had. It had hurt her deeply, but it had been the right thing.

“I didn’t want to. I had to. Everything’s gone to hell out there and I needed to go.”

“You didn’t even say goodbye.”

“I was scared I might back out if I did,” he said with a sad laugh. His hand trembled as he caressed her cheek and already she knew how the night was going to be. She knew it the moment she saw Russell yesterday. There was no other way it could end. They both knew it.

In the morning, they would return to how it was. She would leave; he would stay. But for right now, it would be as before. They would let themselves be in love again for one more night.

Isabelle had reached for his tie before he could speak again. He didn’t kiss her, but watched her hands work and when she’d freed him of it, he stood to hang his jacket on the chair. Next, he undid his belt, draping it over his jacket.

He was so reserved now. Not that Russell had ever been a free spirit, but she could see how the army had extinguished all the lightheartedness he had. Maybe she’d been wrong when she thought the army hadn’t changed him. Yes, she could see it now. It had matured him, but hadn’t changed him. The person Isabelle loved was there, but different. She didn’t want him changed.

When he turned back to her, he was undoing the top button on his shirt. Isabelle eased herself off the bed, standing to meet him. It saddened her that he was so changed, and it was only when she pressed her lips to his could she make herself forget where they were. When he kissed her, they were back in her apartment. Everything could be okay.

His shirt fell open with the last of the buttons, allowing her fingers to tug his undershirt from his pants. Before she could even touch any of him, he was working to undo the one button on her skirt. Isabelle held his lips to hers as he slipped his hands into her stockings.

It had been so long since she’d been touched and held. Russell had been her last. There had been other men, but she had never been able to let him go. This one night would make it even harder to move on, but why think of it when he was here now. When they could have another night?

She stepped closer to him, pressing her hips to his close enough to feel where he was becoming stiff. Everything she remembered made her tremble. Russell fit so well inside her and she wrapped around him like she it was what she was built for. Isabelle hurried to pluck the buttons to her own blouse open, barely breaking away from him.

Groaning, he rubbed against her, his hands caught in the flimsy material of her stockings. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to rip them. She pulled away, laughing as she tried to untangle him.

“Damn things,” he muttered when he was finally free. Isabelle giggled again, pushing them to her ankles along with her panties. Any annoyance Russell held evaporated and when he reached to touch her, she guided his hand to her.

She folded into him, his touch so familiar it ached. Easily, he guided her back to the bed, groaning when she rubbed against him.

All his clothing still covered him from her. While she was so naked, wearing nothing but her brassiere, he could touch all of her—her legs, her stomach, even the little undergarment didn’t prevent him from her breasts. But Russell was so covered, his clothes scratching against her skin. Isabelle forced his hands away from her just enough to slip her hands down under his thin undershirt.

His heart beat strongly under his chest, his skin warmer than any blanket would have kept her. Russell finally relented, pushing away from her to drop his shirt and slip from his white undershirt. He was so small. True, he’d always been a rather small man, though he was bigger than her. Now though, whatever weight he’d had had been stripped from him.

Their small regimen had been hit hard, most of their food had going to the men on the frontline. It showed. His ribs were pronounced ridges under his skin and against his smooth stomach. The bones in his shoulders poked at his skin and when she kissed them, felt the wiry muscles beneath her lips.

She felt his fingers digging under her and she arched her back, allowing him access to the little clasp behind her. Immediately, his mouth was on her. They’d always been a favorite place for him. His teasing hands stilled as he licked and sucked at her, all but forgetting how he strained within his pants. Isabelle, however, was more impatient than he.

Raising her knee just so, she found him and rubbed into him delicately. That seemed to get his attention. His lips closed tighter around her but he lifted his head to kiss her lips again. His hands released her hips to fumble with the button on his trousers.

Isabelle could remember the first time they’d done this. They’d been utterly happy; they hadn’t even had their first fight. He’d been so gentle, kissing her neck while he slipped into her. Isabelle longed to have that back. Longed to be where they could be happy again. Russell had been right when he said the world had gone to Hell. Every day there was so much death around them. Their relationship was hardly anything significant in the world.

The taste of his lips could no longer replace the reality of where they were. They were in a cold, hard bunker. Fucking while the world outside collapsed around them. Russell didn’t see the few tears that escaped her. She hid them in his shoulder while he arranged her to allow him entrance.

He really did fit so well inside her and Isabelle would have been content to hold him, learning what it was to have him joined with her again.

“I never stopped loving you,” she whispered, her tears flowing a bit more steadily. No doubt he could feel them where her eyes pressed into his shoulder, but at least he couldn’t see them.

“Good,” he panted as he held her, his muscles were tensing but he was still. “I kinda worried you might have.”

“No.” Isabelle shook her head, smoothing her hands down his back. “I hate…that things can’t be the same.”

Russell let out a small chuckle and leaned his head back to look at her, “You and me, babe. We can be the same.”

“Does that mean you’ll come back after this is all over? You’ll come home?”

Smiling as he did it, he wiped away the few tears that smeared on her cheeks and temples and he nodded, “That was always the plan.”

“Really?”

“Mm,” he said rubbing his nose against hers.

“Good,” was all she could think of to say. He had changed. But in every way she had hoped. Isabelle always thought that they would be together the rest of their lives. But Russell had always been afraid to admit it. Now, he seemed more than willing to say he would be with her.

She laughed a bit and blinked away the rest of her tears. Life changed and the world changed. Everything could change, but one thing would not. Russell would love her. Yes, the world could change around them. They would not change.

His forehead rested against hers and she pressed her lips to his, urging him to start moving. He rocked into her, the feel of him going in and out taking her breath. He was desperate and fast. His movements made it almost impossible to hold onto him.

She was close, but he came impossibly fast. A moan gurgled from his throat, jolting him sharply until he finally swallowed down another moan to kiss her. “I’m sorry,” he apologized as he softened inside her.

“It’s okay,” she said, smiling. It had still been good, though without being quenched her body still craved him. She knew he wouldn’t leave her still wanting so she let him roll off her to catch his breath.

“This bed is dreadful,” he breathed, smacking his palm against the hard mattress.

“You say that, but you weren’t the one having to lay on it,” she laughed, rolling on her side to face him.

“True,” he slapped it again and breathed out as he turned to look at her. Just as she knew, his finger found their way between her thighs. He kissed her, his fingers expertly working her body. It would have been nice to close around more of him, to really envelope him, but when she tensed around his ever-moving fingers, the release was powerful. He kissed down her cry of excitement and hugged her until she finally slumped into him.

Kissing her again, softly this time, he stood from the bed. His absence made her cold and she untucked the blanket from the mattress. Russell had retrieved his lighter from his pants pocket, already having a cigarette in his mouth. He made to put his underwear back on, but Isabelle hurried to his side to stop him.

“Please don’t leave yet.”

“Babe—”

“No,” she took his pants from his hands and tossed them a few feet away from them. “We’ve only got one more night and you’re not leaving.”

“…for a little while,” he agreed and settled back onto the bed, sitting against the cold wall. Isabelle snuggled against him, keeping the blanket around her. He’d never been one to cuddle much, yet he still draped his arm around her. 

Exhaustion was still with her, more after what they’d done. She could feel herself starting to lose her consciousness and when she felt herself being moved, she started awake.

“It’s okay, just sleep,” Russell said, carefully covering her with the small blanket.

“Are you leaving,” Isabelle clutched at his hand and he kissed her cheek.

“I’m sorry, babe, but I have to. I’ll come get you when your ride’s here.”

Sleep was more elusive with him gone. She rearranged herself to get comfortable again, waking herself further. When she settled, it took a long time to drift back off. But once she was sleeping, it went quickly. She was awoken by Russell as he promised he would.

Walking with him finally made her realize just what was going to happen. Isabelle cursed herself for being with Russell again. The thought of leaving him was already bringing tears to her eyes. She clutched at his hand while he led her to the truck. Before she entered, he embraced her as she threw her arms around his shoulder. He laughed at her, but he held onto her as tightly as she did. He held her for a second longer when she tried to pull away.

He was scared. She whispered to him that it would all be okay. He was doing the right thing and it was good to be brave. When he nodded, he released her. Somehow he still looked more composed than she did.

“You’ll write to me?” she asked, trying to make it sound like a command, but it still came out feeble.

He promised her he would and she never doubted him. But she returned home and waited.

She received only one letter from him, delivered to her by a different man in uniform. It told her he loved her, he wanted to marry her, he wanted a family with her and he was finally ready. It also told her to move on, that it was not good for her to mourn him too long. He wanted her to have a happy life, to find love again. He knew she would, she was not difficult to love.

Move on and have a good life, babe. My last thoughts were of you, of our last time together.


End file.
